


Through the Cracks

by merae



Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, F/M, Friendship, Harold and Maude Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-09
Updated: 2010-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 03:18:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merae/pseuds/merae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dame Judi Dench travels to America in search of a break, she gets more than she bargained for in an unexpected friendship with Taylor Lautner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Cracks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the thread at FandomSecrets@LJ that encouraged this slightly cracky story.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+thread+at+FandomSecrets%40LJ+that+encouraged+this+slightly+cracky+story.).



> Update! 30 March 2010: I seem to have a complete block when it comes to this fic! Somehow I just can't get past that first chapter — my brain just stops up. Weird thing is, I was looking really forward to writing this. But for now it's on hiatus. :/ Yeah, I know. But hey! If anyone is interested in this premise, feel free to take it up and see what the result is, I'd love to see someone else's take on this! Any ideas for what to do next with the story are also welcome! :)

It was a Monday morning, the sky grey and foggy. As Dame Judi walked into the mostly empty Starbucks, a few heads turned in her direction, but thankfully she wasn't recognized by fans today; the few current patrons were emo teenagers who wouldn't have recognized her from their own grandmothers. She needed some time alone, away from the press, the cameras, even from her daughter's recent telephone calls. As she slid onto a stool by the window, a place she usually would never have chosen for lack of privacy, she felt grateful for the thick condensation that covered the windows, hiding the inside of the building from view. No paparazzi would show today — doubtless they wouldn't catch word of her change of location for another week or so — and she enjoyed the solitude.

Judi reached into her bag and pulled out a book she'd picked up out of boredom at a stall on her way to Heathrow. American, just like everything around her — the eyeliner-drenched teenagers drawling in monotone in the corner; the building she was in and the street it was a part of; the man behind the counter, noisily blowing his nose into a tissue; even the stool on which she sat was purely American. Although she'd been here several times, she still didn't know what to make of the country. Perhaps she never would.

She brought her attention back to the book in her hands. Looking down at it, she paid it attention for the first time since taking it off the shelf the day before. With small distaste she realized that the women on the cover were actors — this was a poster for a film on the cover of a book: an incongruous pairing, a trend that had bothered her since it had begun. She could easily remember when the majority of books were not only hardcover, but had no illustration on the front or description on the back — a time when it was impossible to judge a book by its cover, unless one particularly disliked the color of the binding.

She flipped the book open to the title page. _The Secret Life of Bees_. She'd heard a few positive things said about it here and there since its publication; a few years ago Finty had recommended the book to her; but otherwise she'd been oblivious to any popularity it might have received, and turned the page in complete ignorance to its contents.

Skipping past the dedication page and second title page idly, her eyes barely had time to rest on the first words when she heard the door quietly opening.

_Oh, God. Already?_ Her thoughts immediately flew to tabloid photographers at the sound of the door. _Get a life, you bloody roach_, she thought in the newcomer's general direction. Neither looking up, which would reveal her identity immediately, nor attempting to hide her face, which would be a sure tip-off that she was at least someone Important in the media's million eyes, she attempted to concentrate on the words in front of her.

'_At night I would lie in bed and watch the show, how bees squeezed through the cracks..._'

_Through the cracks in my brain_, she thought, unable to focus. She felt as though someone were watching her, their eyes on the back of her skull. Usually she felt this the least of all sensations around her; her natural confidence gave her the ability to completely ignore the presence of what wasn't important to her then and there. The screaming crowds at film premieres; the crew milling about around her on set as she acted; the obnoxious whispers that usually amounted to _Hey, isn't that the hardass old bird from Bond?_ heard from a few yards behind as she ate at some posh restaurant with distant acquaintances; these were all to dust in the wind. But here and now, for reasons that were beyond her, she couldn't ignore the knowledge that someone sat nearby and stared.

Judi turned the page of her book without finishing it, choosing to be uninterested in her observer, as yet unobserved by her. Her eyes fell onto the words _Welch's grape juice cans_ and she began to read from there. This lasted for about twenty minutes, the reading progressing infinitely slowly as she continued to at least attempt a semblance of comfortable leisure.

-

 

Taylor had no idea who this woman was, what it was that made him stare at her, or why he didn't stop. His eyes practically bored a hole into her hair — he expected two laser beams to connect the two at any moment, burning smoking holes in the back of her head as she sat there, casual as anything, as if her brain fluids were not being burned by the white heat of super-concentrated streams of radiation.

Suddenly two gears connected in his mind and he flashed back to the first time he'd watched _Sharkboy and Lavagirl_ onscreen, a psyched-up little kid watching the wonders of 3-D effects make him into the superhero he'd always dreamt of being. He was nearly shocked by the realization that this had only been five years ago; all the ruckus of the past few years had created a stretch in time wherein, day in and day out, words like _Twilight_ and _vampires_ and _RPattz_ had burned themselves into his irises until he nearly wanted to puke. Not to mention the sudden worldwide hoards of fangirls screaming his name, begging him to marry them, showing every sign that they needed to be committed, whenever he hauled ass to some promotional event for _Twilight_ and then for _New Moon_.

Taylor shook his head in annoyance, like a wet dog. _Dog — werewolf — Twilight_ — He'd be lucky if he came out of this, after about ten years of therapy for what he'd discovered on the internet, with an ounce of sanity. But at least he wasn't "RPattz", Edward, the perfect, glorious vampire that had come to save the world of teenage girls from their sins.

He'd come here to enjoy a free moment from all of that. He'd just come from the lawyer's office, having signed a boatload of contracts that had finalized his removal from the cast of the next two Twilight films. After reading _Breaking Dawn_ for the first time recently, he'd wanted no part of the horrifyingly bonkers, pedo-bear-approved mess that was 'Renesmee'.

And now he sat here in a Starbucks, staring at the back of the head of a little woman with short, sharp, silver hair; a complete stranger, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings as she read a book. He didn't understand what fixated him about her but, over an iced drink he tried to.

_She looks strong_, he thought. Most older women tended to look almost frightened in public, and, at what he assumed to be her age, they didn't go out alone. Meanwhile, completely solitary, she held herself upright, assured of herself and unafraid of any possible danger. There was nothing vulnerable about her, and if you lost perspective for just a moment, you could almost imagine her pummeling down a would-be mugger in an alley on her way out, the tables turned, kicking ass and taking names.

The woman spent a ludicrously prolonged amount of time reading each set of pages before flipping to the next. Taylor got the feeling that she was just as tense as he was, whatever reasons she might have to be. He idly wondered what those reasons were.

**Author's Note:**

> AU, set some time in mid- to late 2010.  
> This is my first fanfic! My brain decided to work backwards one day for an hour or so, and the idea for this fic was the result.  
> Originally unsure what to make of the friendship/pairing, I anonymously posted a secret about the idea to FandomSecrets@LiveJournal — and was encouraged by a handful of commenters to write the fic! This is dedicated to that small thread (not to mention FandomSecrets itself). Without those few strangers, this never would have been written. Thanks for being interested — let's hope this keeps you entertained!


End file.
